Spa, Sea And Signatures - The War Is Over

It's been an astonishing roller-coaster of a ride - and the past couple of weeks have been no less exciting as I come to the end of an era. This, for the time being, is the final post for Life's Little Lettuces - because the war has been won. I have come through, and as I said recently, there is no longer any need for me to fight or 'survive'. Because I've done it. All the things that two short years ago seemed impossible have been achieved. Mind you, had I realised at the time just how tricky it would be to navigate my pathway to freedom through such a cruel and unrelenting jungle of circumstances, I'm not sure that I'd have had the courage to continue. It is said that ignorance is bliss - and in this respect, I totally agree!

But enough of that - my battles are well documented in this blog. So now I'd like to update you on the quite extraordinary twists that have happened over recent weeks. All of which have brought me to the conclusion that yes, I HAVE won. I CAN move forward - and for the first time in my life I can move with neither baggage nor the need to prove myself. Instead, just to enjoy who I am and embark on wonderful new adventures - just for me.

A couple of weeks ago I secured all the signatures from my ex that have been necessary for me to get closure on the mess that was left for me to deal with. As you know, I have had no contact with him since the day I discovered the truth - and he has steadfastly refused to respond to any number of solicitors letters. Yet on 20th April he came to his senses and agreed to put his signature to every piece of paper that was put in front of him. No mean feat - but mission accomplished. And two days before the two year anniversary of my discovery as well. Full cycle. Job done. The relief was indescribable - when I received the call to say it was done I dissolved in to a heap of grateful tears, having been told by numerous ill-informed professionals that this would be an impossible route, with no hope of achievement - Pah!

That evening I collected Dylan from Angouleme train station (he'd been at a friend's house for a long weekend) and told him what had happened. Tears rolling down both our faces, we hugged each other and he asked "so is it really over now mum?" Nodding, and holding him closer, I managed a quiet "yes, my darling. It's over. We can move on now" before we headed off to the local supermarket to choose some suitably expensive champagne and a delicious supper of baked fish, salad, and asparagus.

That night will stay in my memory of one of the best nights of my life. He and I spend the evening sipping champagne, listening to music, eating some of our favourite foods, and chatting - about everything. We shared secrets, we laughed, we cried, we told jokes and - most importantly - we were just 'us' together, finding out so much more about each other and both thoroughly enjoying each other's company. My beautiful son is still only 15 years old, yet he is wise beyond his years and fantastic company to boot! Quick witted, mature, and growing in to such an amazing young man in front of my very eyes, I am so very proud to call him not only my son, but my friend as well. Thank you, Dylan, I love you beyond any words I can find to explain.

The next morning I dropped him back at Angouleme train station, since he was staying with his father in London over Easter – a journey that takes him north to Lille where he changes and gets the Eurostar over to England. It’s only the second time he’s done it on his own, so I was a little nervous. Leaving with plenty of time to spare, our journey had been hijacked by unexpected roadworks and an interminable queue of cars in front of us. Patience doesn’t seem to be a word or attitude known to the French, and there was much tooting of horns and revving of engines, accompanied by shouting and waving of fists out of car windows as many decided to turn around and find an alternative route. There was no alternative route for our destination, as we were literally a couple of kilometres from the station – so we had no option but to sit tight and trust that we’d find a solution. Warning his dad that we may miss the train, we battled on through and finally arrived at the station ten minutes after the train had been due to depart. Chucking open the doors and urging Dylan to “run for it!” I went to park the car while he scurried off to his platform, in the thin hope that perhaps the train was late. Just as I was locking the car, Dylan called me to say he was the luckiest boy in the world because his train had indeed been delayed, and he was just boarding now. Phew – what a relief!

But my relief it had been short lived. Because less than 5 minutes later he called me back. The tone of his voice said it all, before he even explained what had happened. He was on the wrong train and was now hurtling towards Paris, rather than Lille, his intended destination. My stomach on the floor and panic coursing sharply through my veins, I reassured him that all would be well, that his father and I would get on the case, instructing him meanwhile to stay calm and find the on-board attendant and explain what had happened. Flurries of texts and phonecalls followed, until finally we found a solution. Dylan was to get off the train at Poitiers and re-join another one that would take him to Lille. As it happened, timing must have been with us, because he ended up on the original train he had been due to board at Angouleme. Phew again. All’s well that ends well – and some useful extra information learned as well. We now know that there is more than one way to get to Lille should we be faced with similar challenges in the future. Good.

That afternoon, bags packed, I set off for Jonzac, to the Thermal Spa where my friend Anna had started the first of her three weeks of treatments. Covered by the French equivalent of the NHS, this is a place where people of a certain age come - often on a yearly pilgrimage - to relax in the natural healing 'thermes' and receive treatments for their aches and pains, bronchial disorders, arthritis and general aches and pains. It's an amazing place, and a wonderful service. No wonder all the residents looked so perky!

Anna had suggested a while ago that it would be good if I could join her for a few days. I wasn’t completely sold at first, it must be said, as I wondered what it might entail – and part of me was also nervous at the thought of going to a spa. At the time, my internal policeman wagged his finger and admonished me for even considering such a thing “What? Who do you think you are? You’re thinking of going off and spending valuable time being pampered? Don’t be so ridiculous – there is work to be done! Mustn’t take your eye off the ball!”

As luck would have it, it turned out that I was to be on my own at Easter, what with it being so late this year the normal village visitors would not be here, and Dylan was away in London. Since it is also a Bank Holiday – both in France and the UK – my policeman was at least quitened by the fact that there would be no pressing business calls or emails to deal with. After all, I was either going to be sitting at home or sitting at the spa – and perhaps with a bit of physical rest and care I was more likely to come back to work with a renewed sense of energy and determination. “Alright ma’am, I’ll let you off this time. You can go. But don’t get yourself too comfortable there, I’ve got my eye on you!” and with that he marched off in to the distance, tutting and writing in his notebook. I had no doubt he’d be back later to check that I was towing the line.

So I turned up on Thursday afternoon to be greeted by a beaming Anna who already looked as though the years were falling from her – and she’d only had two sessions! Her accommodation was a small but perfectly formed little bungalow that was to be her home for the next three weeks. It has a reasonably sized white-tiled kitchen and living room, double bedroom, bathroom and terraces at the front and back. There is a click-clack sofa-bed in the front room, and a welcome note that encourages all visitors to help themselves to the array of herbs that are growing in the surrounding grassed gardens – where there are small tables and chairs dotted around among the trees and shrubs. Immediately there was a sense of peace and tranquillity that welcomed my weary body and soul, whispering a promise that this was only the beginning.

My sessions were due to start at 11.30 the next morning, and Judi filled me in on what was to be expected. I simply turn up – with my costume, rubber flip-flops and the obligatory ‘bonnet’ (swimming cap) that can only be described as a religion at French swimming baths. I count myself lucky that I'm female, as the men have to wear not only the bonnets, but also the nations favourite swimming attire, the Speedo trunks. Practically antiques in the UK, these tight underpants are less than flattering to even the most finely honed physique. To people of a certain age, I would call them torture! 

Once inside, I was given a swimming bag, together with a pink dressing gown, towel and hanger to leave my clothes. Duly changed in to my costume and flip-flops, I was ushered in to speak to one of the medical professionals to discuss my treatment. I noticed that all the other people milling around at reception were dressed in biscuit-brown gowns, and I was conscious that I stood out from the crowd. I wondered whether it was because it was my first day. “Oh no, Madame. You see these people are all here for health reasons – they have been sent by their doctors. You are here by choice – to give yourself some personal care.”

We went through the options available on my package – a choice of four sessions from their regular menu, and two additional sessions from the a la carte. After answering some simple health questions (Any allergies? Medication? Pregnant – “at your age I would highly doubt that!” she answered for me, crossing through the possibility before I’d even opened my mouth) we opted for a river of jets for my legs, an aromatherapy spray treatment for my body, a water-jet session for my back, a steam-room for my lungs (all from the regular menu) and a kaolin bath soak for muscle relaxation plus a 45-minute aromatherapy all-over body massage from the a la carte. “You’ll see Madame” she chirped “you’ll come out feeling en pleine forme!”

She accompanied me to my first session – the bain de boue – a kaolin and sulphur bath where up to 12 people float around in weightless silence. Waiting our turn, the crew of people on the benches seemed curious about my pink bath-robe. One gentleman plucked up the courage to ask why I was wearning a different colour, so I explained what I had been told "Wait til you get to our age" they chorused "it's free, and you can come every year!" their bright eyes twinkling as they nudged each other with knowing smiles. The treatment was amazing. Hollowed in to the caves, with low lighting and white-coated assistants at every corner, this warm bath is like walking in to a pool of double cream. For the next 15 minutes, we all floated off into our own worlds before gently climbing out to shower ourselves free of the creamy residue that seems to get everywhere. I smiled at my new friends in agreement - "isn't this wonderful?"

I had two more treatments (water jets massaging my back, a river filled with jets that massage legs) before heading off to a treatment in a private room where you stand naked while aromatherapy jets squirt  over your back and sides. Waiting on the benches I bumped in to the same gentleman who had questioned me about the colour of my gown “Ah – la madame en rose, tres jolie!” he beamed “oui, la vie en rose et vraiment belle eh?” I smiled, as the rest of the brown-robed residents winked and nodded their agreement.

I finished off with a 45 minute aromatherapy full-body massage, and then a session in the steam room, where I contemplated the experiences. I remembered the conversation I'd had earlier that week with my friend who told me about his pendulum theory, and I burst out laughing (luckily I was the only person in the steam room!) It suddenly occurred to me that the French instructions to "soignez-vous" (care for yourself) doesn't mean emergency sticking plaster! It means taking the time to give yourself recognition and appreciation - at any time, and ALL the time. In that moment, I suddenly realised that I could care for myself - with these wonderful treatments, for example, just for the heck of it! Why wait until I'm sick or tired! No wonder those biscuit-gowned oldies had such twinkling eyes and a spring in their step!

I had three days of these wonderful treatments, broken up only by the Sunday when the spa is closed. So that day Anna and I decided to take a trip to the seaside. I adore being by the sea - having been brought up on the south coast, I know the ocean to be a place that always brings me a sense of peace and calm. So, off we trotted to find ourselves some sea, and a dish of the French coastal speciality, fruits de mer.

It was a wonderful day. Filled with laughter, chattering, exploration and eating. The fruits de mer was absolutely delicious - clearly fresh from the sea that day, and served in such a simple manner, it was one of the best meals I've ever had. 

By the time I had completed my sessions, and was packing to come back home on Tuesday morning, I knew that something had fundamentally shifted inside me. I have been losing weight (13lbs already melted away as I write this, only another 7lbs to go to hit my target) - but I am lighter in every way, not just physically. Because gone too at last are the cares and worries that I’ve been fighting to overcome for so long. Those cares and worries that, in essence, had kept me going for more years than I care to remember. The same cares and worries that made me resilient, that gave me the determination to overcome every new challenge - no matter the enormity - so that I could finally set myself free. It's true that the resulting battles of recent years had left me broken and weary, sinking even in to depression over the past few weeks as I struggled to find peace and a new way forward as more and more battles were won. Because for decades, 'survival' had become a part of my being. I’d become so adept at handling any kind of adversity that, once the war was well on the way to being won, I simply didn’t know who I was anymore.

But now, as a result of the spa, the seaside, the signatures - and so much more - I DO know who I am. The healing is complete, and the recognition of what my life can now become is profound and exciting. I am calm. Clear. Clean and washed free of past struggles. Reborn, if you like, to thrive... My burdens are finally gone. I am light, wide eyed and full of wonderment. Oh, and as for that pesky internal policeman? He's on long-term gardening leave - a one-way ticket.

Don't get me wrong, I am still grateful for the gifts that my struggles have brought me. I've learned many things about myself and about others. I've learned that not all people are 'good' - at least not all the time. I've learned to steer clear of anyone who drains my energy - or who doesn't respect me for who I am. I've learned that I love to write. I've learned that I can create a successful and worthwhile business on my own merits. I've learned that I am loved and supported... That friendship and connection is the most important thing in the world.. And I've learned that I am rich indeed. I've learned that I enjoy my own company, and trust that no matter what happens everything always works out.  I've learned that I'm a loving soul who has worked long and hard... And also that the work has been a gift. Because now I appreciate myself... And if I was to meet 'me' in person, I'd shake my hand and say something like "bloody well done old girl... You've exceeded expectations" and I'd ask myself to be my friend. Because I like me... Very much indeed. So now I'm going to spend time developing my friendship with myself. I'm going to play and have fun. Lighten up, shine, and relish the freedom and beauty that is here for me to enjoy.

I am the key to my own happiness... No-body and no-thing else.

So I'm off to create magical experiences from choice, not necessity. I already have plans for a whole new set of adventures... I'm in no rush. I have all the time in the world. 

For now, I'm signing off from this particular blog and phase of my life. Instead I'm off on my own adventures - who knows where they may lead me, but rest assured I'll continue writing. It will be in a different format, and I will let you know when there is more to read.

So, til we meet again, thank you all for your support, your feedback and most importantly your love. I wouldn't be where I am today without you. In deepest gratitude, and from the core of my being, the very essence of who I am, I salute you and I thank you all.

Toodle-oo and pip pip for now... Look out for the postcards!

Mel xxx

Forget The Cabaret - Life Is A Pendulum Old Chums

Today has been one of those weird ones - you know the times where you actually know what's about to happen (what needsto happen) yet when it does it still takes you by surprise, and you find yourself dealing with waves of emotions to be digested, reflected upon and made sense of? I guess it could be likened to a school exam, where you know in your heart of hearts that you've done really badly and yet are still shocked to receive the official confirmation in the form of a bad result?

The funny thing for me is that before today day had even started, I was already in the place of knowing and choosing this particular outcome - so the news was no surprise. No, the news was just the natural tidy up of lose ends, burnt and beaded threads that had been flapping in the wind, slapping frantically against my bare skin, urging me to wake from a dream that had turned in to a nightmare.

Like I said - a weird one. The signs are always here. There's always something going on. Always a truth that rumbles gently - or finally crashes around using every available method - until it's noticed, and actioned. Co-incidence and serendipity - being in the flow - allowing and enjoying - when those are the kind sensations and experiences that fill my time, then I know I'm acting from my own inner wisdom. When there are struggles and difficulties, that's when I know there's a lesson to be learned - but it can sometimes take a while for me to heed the lesson, however good the outcome will be! Change, you see - even the good stuff can be daunting!

On Saturday I enjoyed a particularly helpful Skype conversation with a friend of mine (thanks, Grasshopper, you know who you are!) - one of those so called happy co-incidences, because we hadn't spoken for ages and yet he'd popped in to my head just half an hour or so before I received his call. Concerned that I appeared somewhat troubled, he offered to take me through a new coaching process he'd been learning. Of course I agreed - I love this stuff, and was also keen to quieten the inner battles that had been tiring me. So, with his help, and with him acting as my guide and my witness, we walked through some of my core beliefs. To my surprise, it turned out that I still had the last vestiges of an old and deeply engrained parasitic belief that for years had been burrowed tick-like in to my being. The old and worn-out song that I'm not good enough. Small - tiny, in fact - but there none the less. So through our honest conversation, and following this new process, he helped me to at last release myself from the remaining defiant pincers that had, until that point, still kept a part of themselves embedded in to my flesh. Gotcha you sneaky, slippery little sucker! Phew. That feels better!

And, out of the blue, another co-incidental bit of help came my way this afternoon when I dropped in to see another friend on my way back from town. I'd expected to share a coffee and the usual welcoming, questioning female chats I enjoy so much with his wife - but she was out. So instead he and I sat in the sunshine discussing life, the universe and all that is - or was, or could be, or might still be. It was a delicious and most unforeseen pleasure I was least expecting - perhaps we drank too much of that really strong coffee - or perhaps it really was serendipity. I don't know for sure. But the resulting free-flow of conversation was both surprising and enlightening - and a most unexpected gift.

He spoke to me, quite candidly, about the 'inferno' that he (and others) recognise burns within me - insistent, voracious, and on occasions somewhat threatening to others. He spoke about my constant drive to search, adventure, test, push, overcome and bloody well 'do' more than is necessary. He pointed out that (my nature being as it is) I am likely to always continue along that path in one way or another. I spoke about the concept that we all seek 'witnesses' in our life - people who can share our experiences, people who validate our opinions through agreement or variation. We both explored the idea that without feedback and conversation (listening, speaking, sharing, comparing) we confine ourselves to a grey, one-dimentional palette that limits our experiences. He also threw me some facts and posed me some questions, likening the human journey to the swinging of a pendulum.

Enjoying the coffee and sunshine, together we discussed the notion that, like a pendulum, when we surge in positivity (or negativity) the natural course of nature's law is that we'll experience the same in the alternate spectrum - the equal and opposite natural swing and balance of life. Indeed, a notion that for years I've shared with those who care to listen - and also with those who (in my younger years when all this inner-game stuff was a new obsession) I would corner and pester until either they understood the point I was making or would simply walk away. Yup, I guess you could say I've always been a little intense!

My friend gave me some wise and honest advice, based on his observations of me over the eight years that I've lived here in France and had the honour to call him my friend. Not usually one for speaking out, it came as a welcome surprise to hear his well thought out opinion. He suggested that my challenge is to find the normality within the wild swinging of the pendulum that has, until now, been the blueprint of my existence. To seek the normality as the pendulum speeds over it again and again. To notice exactly what normality is, and to enjoy it. The wry and knowing smile spoke volumes"those who find it say it's much closer than most people think... isn't that the stuff you study and teach Mel?"

His advice beautifully mirrors that of a conscious and very personal intention I made public a short while ago - my decision, my choice, my declaration to now live my life for me - for Mel Carnegie, age 46 and a quarter. To find out, from a place of safety, who I really am. To put myself first and to heed my inner self. To let my intuition grow, thrive, and guide me. Because, no longer willing to play "the fighter" or "the survivor"... I've realised that I've finally "done it". I've made it through. I AM enough (I always was - doh! - don't you hate it when that happens?) and now my  conscious focus is to enjoy my life. To appreciate the here and now. To wake up and smell the coffee, or slow down and admire the roses - whatever phrase we choose... whatever pace we enjoy.

My friend, today, was advising me just to be me - to enjoy the 'normality' that is actually what life is about. I shared with him my understanding of who I think I really am, how I really choose to enjoy my live - which is to live a simple life, to love and to be loved. My friend smiled.

And guess what, as I'm typing these words, the track that's just started playing in the background right now (as if by coincidence?) is one of my all time favourite tracks that alway signals forward movement for me - Eddie Reader's "I'm In The Right Place Now"... as I said at the beginning, funny ain't it?

I have a feeling that I'll always be an adventurer. I'll always seek more from life. I'll question, I'll analyse, I'll push, I'll prod, I'll poke... I'll piss people off - and help others to find their pathway... and you know what? I'll always keep finding more to excite and engage me. I already have the best memory albums of life's travels - and there's plenty more space to fill. Bring it on - gently and steadily from now on please.

The news I started this post with, is that the Journeyman I spoke of in a previous post has gone his own way. It's certainly true that he has taught me much - mainly that I'm worth so much more than I was once willing to settle for. So, to you, Journeyman, I thank you. Class complete. See you in another lifetime my friend - our work here together this time around is done.

Broken...?

Yup... because broken, bust, wiped out, knackered are all certainly all words I'd use to describe the way I'm feeling right now. Others may well choose to use other adjectives - prickly, unreasonable, bad-tempered and generally difficult would be some of my guesses based on reactions and expressions I've witnessed in response to my behaviour over the past few days!

The first three months of this year have already proven to be one heck of a ride - in so very many ways. At the time, though, I knew exactly what I was signing up for - and it certainly has over-delivered on the results I was expecting. More than just a means to an end, I've achieved more than I thought could be expected in such a short space of time - and I've done it by asking more of myself than I would have asked even of the strongest mental or physical athlete. And yes, my friends, I've done it. Yes, I knew I'd hit some kind of meltdown once I had the chance to stop and let go, that was inevitable, part of nature's way... but this? This level of fatigue, exhaustion, aching and what can only be described as mental and physical wipeout? No, I must admit that I certainly was not expecting quite such a spectacular collapse. Even by my own measurements, this is really quite a big one!

And I KNOW it's a good thing - because I've been here before. Although this time I'm not in the middle of a struggle, nor am I 'fighting' for or against anything or anybody. There are no battles to be won, there are no more legal or emotional mazes to be worked through. Nobody and nothing is threatening me. I am under no pressure. Everything is, in fact, under control and running its own natural course. Yes, ok, there are still some tweaks needed along the way - but in the grand scheme of things the war has been won. It's just a matter of bringing home the last remaining troops.

And yet... and yet... I am totally and utterly depleted. I am inexplicably teary, and unable to focus on anything for more than a few minutes before my head starts pounding and I lose concentration. Nothing left. All gone. Finished.  Over and out. And at the very same time I know that all of this simply heralds more positive growth for me. It's another invitation to let go of the old - to break through to more than I've been before by allowing my self to be broken. Because broken I am.

Just yesterday, for example, I received some news that I wasn't expecting. No great shakes, just another wall of bureaucracy that I'll need to jump over before this divorce can be finalised. It's a paperwork trail that requires me to hire yet another professional to complete this specific process because, as I was told by a sympathetic but powerless representative of the company "that's just the way we do it here". Do-able and, in a way understandable, it still sent me in to a tailspin and I simply couldn't muster the energy to get up, get going and get on with it. So instead I moved in to the kitchen and made myself a cup of mint tea.

And here is where I'm realising that 'broken' may well actually mean 'breakthrough'. Because just a few months ago, I would not have let any such reaction stop me or even break my stride. I'd have pushed on through regardless, drawing on my seemingly endless reserves of energy, digging deeper and pulling on whatever resources I could find (personal or external) to get me through. Now, however, because I'm feeling so very broken (for want of a better word) I am instead allowing myself to feel the blow and instead do something to sooth myself. I have quietly walked away from the situation, knowing that it will all work out. Knowing also that I'm much better off looking after myself in the moment rather than pushing harder still to solve something that, quite frankly, can wait just a little while longer. A few hours or days - even weeks - are going to make no difference whatsoever when all is said and done.

Speaking with my very wise friend Anna last night, she instructed me to take my own medicine and spend the next 48 hours only doing things that I know are good for me. Reminding me to listen to myself, to tune in, and to be who I really choose to be. I nodded sagely, smiling all the while she was telling me this, as her words were pretty much exactly the same instructions I had given to a dear friend only a couple of days earlier. She, like me, is in the middle of a change point. A period in her life when, for the first time ever, she has the opportunity to indulge herself, to discover who she is and what brings her happiness. And she's been surprised to discover that she actually doesn't know the answer... yet.

Me? Do I know the answers? Well, to be honest, sometimes I think I do... most of the time, though, I'm very happy to say that I don't - because that way, in my map of the world at least, it means I'm open to learning and growing. Having said that, I am perfectly aware that I can be particularly stubborn when it comes to getting my point across. I also know that I will resolutely stick on a mission if I believe I can help or add value... sometimes when, in hindsight, it may have been wiser to let go more quickly. But hey, with hindsight we're all experts eh?

I do believe though, right from the core of my being, that what may well feel to me is 'a broken Mel' is in actual fact just another set of walls and barriers crumbling down. In my last post I said I'd finished with being the survivor, the victor in any challenge. I said that now I choose to live my life in peace and joy. Well, I've learned along the way that the power of intention is not something to be messed with. I've realised that when I speak of a desire or choice something from a soul-level, it invariably happens - and inevitably brings along with it the bulldozers and demolition crews necessary to batter through my stubborn resistance to making whatever adjustments are necessary.

So now, this time, I'm going along with the ride and enjoying the scenery. This time I have the opportunity to watch what's happening along the way. I can take in the sights, enjoy the atmosphere and yes, smell the coffee as my wishes come true. As the walls crumble down, so a new door is revealed. A door that had been hidden before. A door to another place - to more of my soul - to an even deeper authentic sense of who I really am.

So yes, I am broken. But I think rather that this is finally the end of an automatic survival and fighting habit that I've fine tuned over the years. Don't get me wrong, that habit has served me very well - exceptionally well in actual fact. And those warrior skills are ones I know I can call on at any time. Now, though, the battle is done. I'm giving up the fight, and I'm learning to live with me - just as I am.

OK, then who am I exactly? Well... I am that little girl, no more than four years old, who loves to fly her kite on the beach. The little girl who roars with laughter as the wind whips at her clothes and hair, while the sea applauds with its rhythmic smacking, chuntering and pulling of the pebbles as wave after wave hits the shore. I'm singing in to the wind, imagining wild stories of mythical creatures and magical people, dancing and twirling over the pebbles, swept along by the thrill of it all and the joy of the moment. I know how to ask for more of the things I like, and for less of the things I don't like. Because I'm safe to do that, and I know my requests are heard - and heeded. There may be times I stamp my foot in frustration or fury - but I'm easily soothed and always willing to learn a better way to understand as well as to be understood.

That was me. And now this IS me. All that is left is to continue accepting more and more of who I am - because you know what? I may be frustrating. I may be demanding. I may at times be too loud, and at others too quiet. No, I'm far from being perfect - but fundamentally, underneath it all, I reckon I'm a pretty good egg! And, as everyone knows, you can't make an omelette without breaking an egg :-))

Take A Deep Breath... And... Relax...

Phew... what an absolutely amazing few weeks! Exhilarating, invigorating, frustrating, testing, uplifting, frightening, emotionally challenging.... wow, it sure feels like I've just come off one of the most amazing roller-coaster rides in the world. Now then, normally I detest roller-coasters (just ask Sarah, who saw me stride on and then slink straight back off the Pepsi Max ride at Blackpool before it had even started!) but this one... well... I've come off fizzing and buzzing, my hair a little like the professor on Back To The Future, and with a contented smile bigger than the Cheshire Cat after a toke on the hubbly bubbly pipe. And a triumphant air-punching whoop inside me that keeps repeating "I've done it! I've done it! I've flippin well DONE IT!"

It is, once again, a Sunday afternoon. I'm at home in my kitchen, dressing-gowned and happy. The recently enjoyed poached eggs feeding my body, I'm now feeding my soul in one of my favourite ways - writing. I'm finally home, you see, after more than ten weeks of constant work and travel. Now it's my time to relax and to chill out. So, yes, at nearly 3pm new time (well, the clocks have just gone forward, so it's really not even 2pm yet after all) I'm perched at my regular spot in the kitchen, accompanied by three curious cats and the dulcet tones of Seal playing in the background. The particular track at the moment is Adamski's "Crazy" and I can't help but smile at the lyrics: "no we're never gonna survive unless we get a little crazy"

Crazy, for sure, is how I've been for a while. If anyone else had told me they were heading out to achieve the goal I set for myself at the beginning of this year, in the time-frame I determined it would take, I would certainly have questioned their judgement. Perhaps even their sanity! And yes, I'm quite sure that while I've been travelling along this recent journey, then yes... I have indeed had times of being a little crazy. Then again, I'm pretty sure now that we all go a little crazy during times of challenge and development. As you probably know, I prefer to find more growth-related expressions to use in the place of the over-used word "change" because, in my experience, it causes the majority of people to recoil at varying levels. And, whether pushed or jumping, any kind of growth feels very odd - well, it would, wouldn't it? Otherwise it wouldn't be anything other than that which we already know. So, yes, I believe that we all experience craziness to some degree through times of personal expansion - in my case, usually inspired through the need to simply survive.

And survive I most certainly have. Absolutely. No question. Job done. And now, I think I'm heading for another little bit of craziness... because now I'm purposely heading in to a completely new existence.

It struck me a couple of weeks ago that, whilst I'm great at fighting and can turn any situation around to my advantage in the end, one of my key drivers has been to survive. Right from childhood. Almost as if I'm pre-programmed to survive anything that comes my way. And, I've now decided, these past few weeks have been my very last test of survival. I've worked harder than I would ever expect anyone else to do. I've pushed friendships to the edge in order to achieve my goal. And now, now, I've fulfilled my debts, secured my reputation, am in the last stages of finalising the mess that has been my divorce, and have also bought myself a healthy chunk of time in which to do nothing but relax and reflect.

Because I've had enough now. I'm not doing it any more. For goodness sakes, if I haven't yet proved to myself that I AM good enough, that I CAN come back stronger no matter how big the challenge... well, then I'm a harder task-master than I had previously imagined! And you know what? Enough is enough - yes, even for me. I no longer need to survive or to fight. I can finally say that I have indeed won the war.

So, no - no more battles for me. No further need to prove myself by surviving yet another life or sanity threatening challenge. Nope, from now on I am heading out to focus on increasing peace and joy in my life. For the first time in my life, to consciously choose how my life is going to be. Not from a position of feeling under threat, rather instead from a position of relaxation. From the indisputable evidence that I have indeed survived - not just the past couple of years, but also the challenges that see to have become my way of life - now it's time to relax, chill out and find out what I'd really like to do. The financial pressures have vanished. The emotional turmoils have been smoothed and are now flourishing in actual fact. So yes, now I really, truly, honestly amliving the dream. Right here, right now, sitting in my lovely home... job done, self-sufficient and glowing with pride.

The thing is... do I actually know how to relax? No, I don't mean just taking a short break before getting straight back on the treadmill... I mean really really relax. To spend time exactly as I choose - with whoever I choose and doing whatever takes my fancy. Well, I'm not sure... I'm certainly willing to learn and yesterday afternoon was a good start. Just home from the UK, my lovely friend Vera came round and together we enjoyed a typical French lunch outside in the warm sunshine - salad, a selection of good cheeses, baguette and of course a glass of wine. We chatted and laughed, and then after that we watched the classic film Thelma and Louise. Vera has herself recently survived some major personal challenges, through which our friendship has flourished and become even stronger than ever before. So, yesterday afternoon, we empathised with the two on-screen friends who started off in innocence planning a couple of days away together, and who ended up finding themselves as they faced an array of unexpected situations that challenge them both to go a little bit crazy. By the end of it we had tears streaming down our faces - neither one of us certain whether we were laughing or crying!

1. Now, I'm neither a Thelma nor a Louise - but I certainly feel that a new kind of craziness is about to hit. One where I can actually choose to discover exactly what makes me tick. Where I can choose to do the things that bring me joy. Where I can be the person filled with love, peace and safety - I know that's who I really am, because through my fights for survival, I've been lucky enough to glimpse at my soul.

One of my favourite quotes is Ghandi's invitation to us all to "be the change you want to see in the world". So now, even though my engrained habit of more than 40 years has been to get up and get going, I am sitting in stillness. Listening to my soul. Learning to relax and be the joy I'd like to see in my world.

Crazy? Well, I don't know... but it sure feels different... and I LOVE it!

Pyjamas And High Heeled Shoes!

Daffodils are out. Crocuses are blooming. And on my table outside the kitchen, my white Carnegie Hyacinth is proudly sprouting flowers. Spring, my friends, is finally coming. And I welcome it with open arms.

Don't get me wrong, winter this year has been an extremely colourful season for me. Lots has been happening and I have finally become comfortable with this feeling of being... well... comfortable! More relaxed in my own skin than I can ever remember, and confident that I can now overcome any obstacle, means that now... now... I am now consciously focusing on accepting more joy and love in to my life.

You see, since my earliest memories, I have learned the art of survival. Not the kind of daily fight for life that face much of the world's population, forced to eek out an existence in abject poverty and cruelty. No, of course I'm not talking about that sort of monumental survival challenge. My battles have been more on the 'inner world' - the emotional, psychological blows that you could say are harder to spot. Bearing no physical scars or disfigurements, and (to the outside world at least) living a life where it seemed I was looked after, there were no questions asked about my well-being.

Much of my life since childhood has been about proving myself - seeking acceptance and constant reassurances that, actually, I am ok. Fighting against injustice, championing the underdog and determining to find another way in the face of adversity, I've found solace in the world of self-development, motivation and coaching. Because each time I am able to help someone work through their issues, I am also helping myself. Yes, you might say my chosen profession is somewhat self-serving. To which I would respond loud and clear - "absolutely. Spot on." Because that's exactly what it is.

It hasn't always been that way. You may remember in a previous post from 2009 I talked about my sudden realisation that all the time I had believed I was coaching people for them, it suddenly dawned on me that I was coaching them for me? That through helping others, I was actually helping to heal myself in the process? You may also remember that, at that time, I decided that my coaching days were therefore over and done. My thought behind it being that surely, if I'm coaching for me rather than my client, then I can no longer call myself a coach? Because to me, my work had been about giving my all - heart and soul - to helping anyone who requested my services. And the realisation that underneath it all, my driving force had likely been the need to heal myselfwas a bit of a shock to say the least!

Thankfully I've moved on since then. Thankfully I now have a much greater understanding of the saying "if the man is right, the world is right" - and so now I look back at my early coaching days with a misty eyed fondness for the person who threw herself headlong in to her profession, determined to make the world a better place. Because, in the process, and since I started writing this blog, I have indeed succeeded in making the world a better place. My world. The inner landscape that my soul inhabits. The place that, until relatively recently, was cold, brittle and grey - too scared to bend, too bruised to hug, too hoarse to shout.

I hadn't realised that, as well as the castle walls I had built to protect myself, I also had hundreds of bloodthirsty sharks circling in my moat. I had thought, as you know, that the castle was there to protect me - and in my early years it certainly served its' purpose. But as the years rolled by, I became a prisoner in my own fortress. But the strange thing is, I hadn't even noticed.

It's only been over the past few months that friends have told me how difficult it can be to 'help' me. How darned self-sufficient I am, and how obstinate, capable and forthright I will be when faced with a challenge. I'm the first one to jump in when anyone else has a problem - and yet people struggle to get in and give me the kind of help they see I need. Heaven forbid they push too hard, because those circling sharks can attack in a moment's notice should anyone get too close! So the fact that my friends have finally felt able to tell me this, coupled with the fact that I am listening, is a big sign for me that I am finally freeing myself.

Which brings me nicely back to the point about my chosen career to coach and develop teams and individuals. And I can't help but laugh at the irony. Because for more years than I care to remember, I have been advising people to put themselves first. To find ways of accepting more of who they are, and to live their life through choice rather than need. And you know what? Now that I've finally 'got it', I am more than happy to embrace the fact that everything I do is indeed for me - because that's what life is about, and it's the only way to truly walk the talk and be authentic! So... yes, I coach and encourage people because it's good for me. I choose my profession because I like what I'm doing. I live my life to please myself - because then, and only then, can I help others as well.

And by accepting that, I believe I have finally and completely moved out of the 'survival' mode that has been my unconscious programme for nearly all of my life. Because finally, by putting myself first, and by listening to my body and my soul, I can live life in joy. Today, for example, it's now way past 2pm and I'm perched in the middle of my French kitchen in my pyjamas. I am wearing a pair of high heeled shoes I bought yesterday because I like the feel of them on my feet. The double butler sink in front of me has dirty plates in it, and I've just eaten some home-made tomato soup that I made last night. Now I am about to make myself a Nespresso coffee with sugar - and I might even have a square of dark chocolate with it! There are countless things I could be doing for work - but quite frankly I am choosing not to. This is my time, and today I shall spend it as I like, because we never know what's around the corner.

A couple of weekends ago, my dear neighbour died very suddenly from a brain haemorrhage. She was loved by many people, and was always full of life and laughter - so it came as a huge shock to everyone who knew her. She leaves behind grown up children and a husband who now simply doesn't know what to do with himself. Would she have approved of my get-up today? Silky pyjamas, high heeled shoes, and writing my blog in the middle of a messy kitchen?

Darned right she would. She'd probably have laughed like a drain and come along to join me. Bless you, Jacqueline, and rest in peace. I'm sure your smile and laughter is now lighting up the lives of many others who have passed before you. I raise my coffee cup to you my lovely friend - one day we'll see each other again. Until then, I shall continue to live life to the full and wear pyjamas and high heeled shoes whenever I like - Cheers!